


Second Date

by Tarlan



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Action, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-02
Updated: 1999-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Krycek makes the mistake of trying to tease Mulder after rescuing him from an awkward situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Date

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally appeared in a wonderful zine called _Leather and Armani_

"Shit!"

Krycek mouthed the expletive as he flattened himself back against the wall. He scrunched his eyes closed in exasperation, head tipping backwards. The urge to rap his head against the brick work was almost overpowering, but past experience had proved that the only person it hurt was himself. He cursed anew. This was becoming a far too familiar scene these days. He sneaked another quick look around the corner just to confirm what he already knew - two men, with their backs to him, beating on a third tied to a chair.

"Shit!" He cursed under his breath. "Why me?"

His entreaty fell on deaf ears. The sound of flesh hitting flesh and another soft groan of pain floated around the corner giving Krycek no option but to consider a change in his plans. He pulled the Glock out from where it had been tucked into the back of his jeans, took a few deep steadying breaths and then swung round the corner.

"Hey, there!"

The two men spun on their feet to face him, weapons sliding quickly into hands. Two shots from the Glock echoed around the small warehouse before those weapons could align on him. The first man spun back the way he came as the bullet took him high on the left shoulder; the other jerked as the bullet smashed through his chest sending blood spraying. Another shot shattered the back of the first man's skull, blood and gore splattering everywhere. The third man, manacled securely to a wooden chair, could only stare in shock as his captors met a grisly end.

Krycek approached slowly; shaking his head at the seated man like a parent admonishing a small child. Having kicked the guns out of reach first, he studied the chest-wounded man, nudging him with his foot to ensure he *was* dead rather than just *playing* dead. Once convinced he turned his full attention to the battered and blood splattered man who was cuffed and tied to the chair. His eyes raked across the familiar features, noting the discoloration forming along one cheek and evidence of his own blood that trickled from the split in that luscious bottom lip.

"Mulder, Mulder, Mulder. I bet those are your own handcuffs."

"Fuck you, Krycek."

"Pardon?" The green eyes widened and glittered in mock offense. "Not on the first date."

He smiled gleefully as a look of thunder crossed the damaged face but anything was better than the glassy-eyed shock. Anyway, it was so nice to have the tables turned and such a pleasurable change to meet Mulder with words instead of fists. That thought brought a frown to his face, deepening the line across the bridge of his nose.

"You know, Mulder. I kind of like this." He waved the hand still holding the Glock, indicating the shackled condition of his ex-partner. "You and me doing something other than beating the crap out of each other the moment we meet."

"You still enjoying those one handed beatings..."

Krycek smiled tightly. "Those goons must have worked you over pretty good if that's the best line you can come up with."

"Fuck you, Krycek."

"You're repeating yourself, Mulder." He paused as an evil thought flitted through his mind. A grin split his face; an impish glint shining in the sea-green eyes. "Of course, technically speaking, this *is* our second date... and I don't recall you being too put out when I kissed you on our first..."

Mulder could not prevent the blush that colored his cheeks as he remembered the way those perfect lips had felt against his skin; warm, soft and moist. Many a fantasy had been fueled by that kiss; many a night spent wondering how those lips would feel wrapped around his cock. Embarrassment turned to anger and he pulled violently at the handcuffs, wincing as they chafed his wrists. He stopped when Krycek backed off a few feet, hand raised defensively.

"If you promise not to hit me then I'll unlock you."

The words 'Fuck you' formed in his mind once more but common sense prevailed before they could tumble from his lips. If he pissed Krycek off then the man might just up and leave him to the mercy of whoever came through that door next. More than likely it would be more of Cancer Man's goons... in which case he was a dead man. Anyway, his word meant nothing given to a worthless piece of shit like Krycek so...

"You have my word."

Alex Krycek smiled again at the too-smooth response and Mulder couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way it lit up the angelic features.

"Nice try, Mulder."

Mulder fumed.

"Alright. I promise on Scully's grave that I will not hit you if you get me free of these."

Krycek cocked his head to the side as if considering the promise. He sighed deeply, realizing that this was the best he would ever get. Anyway, he had just killed two men to save Mulder's ass so leaving him here was not an option. The flick-knife blade gleamed suddenly in the low lighting of the warehouse. Krycek paused for a moment, enjoying the momentary discomfort on Mulder's face and then he bent down to cut through the thin rope securing the man's ankles to the chair legs. Before Mulder could rise Krycek reached down and started patting the pockets of the agent's suit until he found the keys to the handcuffs. Moments later, Fox Mulder was on his feet trying to ease the kinks out of his stiffened muscles. He accepted the handkerchief offered to him and wiped, ineffectively, at the splatters of blood on his face.

"Thanks."

It was begrudgingly given but Krycek was surprised to receive *any* admission of gratitude. He nodded his head in acceptance and then glanced at the door.

"You'd better get out of here before someone..."

"What are you doing here?"

Mulder took up an aggressive stance that seemed a little ludicrous under the circumstances. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Alex Krycek turned away.

"Get out of here, Mulder, while you still can."

The tone was soft... implacable and Mulder *knew* there was little point arguing yet still he remained. His eyes darted to the bodies lying at his feet. He was an FBI Agent, for chrissakes, yet he could not feel it within him to berate his ex-partner for the violence. Those men had made it quite clear what they intended to do to him had Krycek not arrived to spoil their plans, and he had no doubt that they had meant it. He turned on unsteady legs and weaved towards the door, pausing on the threshold to look back at the dark-clad figure; wondering, as he did every time, whether this would be the last time he gazed upon the delicious form of his former partner. In that brief moment he committed the strong, athletic frame to memory and then he turned away.

His car was parked a few blocks away and he reached it on ever more shaky legs, feeling grateful when he fell into the driver's seat. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. Nothing. Not even a whir. He tried again. He looked up through the windscreen in disgust and found the reason for his car's sudden death. Three figures were standing in the center of the street, outlined by the street lights. One of them held an object swaying on the end of a wire and Mulder had a good bet that this object had once been part of his car engine. The sound of another car approaching rapidly drew his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the three men start running towards him, weapons drawn. The car screeched to a halt beside him, the door was flung open and inside he could clearly make out the features of Alexei Krycek.

"Get in."

Mulder threw open his own door and leaped into the other car. The men rolled aside as Krycek accelerated the car past them, shooting wildly at the receding tail-lights. The car screeched around the corner, almost up on two wheels and Mulder could only admire the skill it must take to drive that well with only one hand and a prosthesis.

Twenty minutes passed before Krycek deemed it safe to pull up. In all that time neither man had spoken but the dark-haired ex-Consortium agent glanced sideways at the FBI agent.

"Saving your ass is becoming quite a habit."

Mulder looked back, remembering the last time they were seated side-by-side. He had punched Alex in the face. Perhaps it was the result of the beating he had taken; perhaps it was tiredness or maybe it was merely relief that he was still alive but, for once, Mulder felt no inclination to hit Alex. He glanced around and realized, suddenly, that Alex had taken him home. They were parked only a short distance from his tenement building. A soft flush crept up his face as he listened to the quiet sound of the engine ticking over. He felt like a teenager returning home from the Prom; the handsome young man in the driver's seat waiting for a sign of how the rest of the evening was to continue. Would there be a perfunctory wave goodbye... or would there be a kiss; chaste or passionate? Would he be invited in for coffee?

Suddenly it became very clear to Mulder that he did not want Alex to leave. His voice was low and soft, the monotone non-threatening.

"Do you want to come in?" Krycek stared at him, one dark eyebrow raised questioningly. "It's way past time we talked."

A gentle snort was his only response and Mulder opened the door, strangely disappointed. A thought occurred to him and he leaned back down.

"I still have half a bottle of vodka in my refrigerator... the one you..."

Even in the low street light Mulder could see remembrance flit across those expressive eyes. They had been on a case and Mulder had suggested going back to his apartment and ordering in pizza while they discussed the next step. On the way they had stopped by a 7-11 and picked up a six-pack and the vodka. It was the last time Krycek had been in Apartment 42 under invitation.

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth and with a flick of his wrist Krycek killed the engine and climbed out.

****

Krycek paused on the threshold of the lounge as Mulder stripped off his coat, crumpled jacket and tie; balling the items together before throwing them into a laundry basket. Without turning back, he walked into the small kitchen and retrieved the bottle and two glasses. He placed them on the coffee table, unscrewed the cap and poured two generous servings. Picking up one glass he held it out to the man still standing in the half-shadows by the door. After a moment's deliberation, Krycek came forward and took the glass from the outstretched hand. He dropped into the seat opposite Mulder and raised the glass in salute to his host before downing the contents in one, eyes closing momentarily to savor the burning sensation as the alcohol slipped down his throat into his empty stomach sending a familiar warmth radiating outwards. Mulder copied him and then refilled both glasses.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up."

Krycek watched the older man heave his battered body out of the armchair and walk stiffly towards the bathroom. The sound of water running echoed around the quiet room followed by a small amount of splashing. Alex leaned back and let his head drop back against the couch, bringing the glass up to his lips occasionally for another sip of the cold liquid. He let his mind drift to other times... other places. A few minutes later the sound of shoeless feet upon the carpet brought his attention back to the present. Mulder rubbed his wet hair with a towel as he lowered himself into the seat opposite. He dropped the towel to the floor and picked up his glass. They sipped slowly until Mulder decided to break the silence.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you keep saving my ass?"

 _For me!_

The reply that jumped into his brain brought a smile to his face but Krycek was not going to let that thought escape. He suddenly realized that Mulder was still waiting for an answer but nothing came to mind. The strange look that crossed Mulder's face set his heart racing.

 _I shouldn't have come here._

He cursed himself for a fool. How could he be so stupid to believe he could walk into this apartment and have Mulder fall into his arms like they were characters in some tacky romance novel. The fantasies that had kept him going through the hard times were just that... fantasy. None of the scenarios he had put together in his head to keep him sane when his world seemed to be crashing around his ears were ever going to be acted upon and sitting here, drinking vodka as if they were best buddies, was never going to change that fact. He could not prevent the slight tremor that rippled through him... body and soul... as he gazed at what he wanted with all his heart but could never have. His eyes dropped to the glass in his hand. The best thing he could do right now was drink up and go... and never look back.

Mulder frowned and then the pieces slotted together. His eyes widened, the pupils dilating as he read the poorly concealed desire in the face opposite before the eyes dropped away. The initial shock passed quickly as he realized this was something he had *always* suspected from those first days when Krycek would follow him around like a lovesick puppy. Over the years he had persuaded himself that it had all been an act... just another lie among many, but now he was not so sure. Other images swept into his mind; the way Alex would just stand there accepting the fists that rained down upon him without putting up more than a token resistance; the way he had followed him under the wire in Tunguska despite knowing the consequences. He frowned.

After Jeffrey Spender had handed back the X-Files Mulder had followed him from Skinner's office. He had caught Spender's arm and been strangely relieved when the man made no attempt to shrug him off. They had spoken for just a few minutes... about Alex Krycek and the part he had played in saving Spender's life and dignity. A promise to meet later had been broken. Jeff Spender disappeared before he could ask any more questions about the man purporting to be the junior agent's father, so Mulder had been left wondering. Had Alex been the one to bring back the Russian vaccine that he had used to save Scully's life? Was Alex the owner of the husky voice that had sent members of a nearby Antarctic Research station to the rescue after the Colonist ship had left them stranded on the ice? Had Alex been the one to set up the El Rico massacre, destroying practically all of the traitorous Consortium leaders in one fell swoop? Thinking back through the years he wondered something else... how many more of those 'anonymous' tip-offs had come from the same source... from Alex. How many other times had Alex 'Ratboy' Krycek put his life on the line for *him*?

As disturbing as these thoughts were, there was one thing he *was* certain of... his own desire for Alexei Krycek. Suddenly, he realized that he had long ago forgiven Alex for the death of his father but had clung onto that 'hatred' to protect himself from what he really felt for the other. He sneered. His 'father'. A man whom events had proved was more of a monster than many of the strange creatures he had come across during his time on the X-Files. Not just for his part in setting up the Colonist experiments, but for allowing his own daughter to be taken... and for pushing the whole blame onto the small shoulders of a innocent child... his son.

 _Knowledge is power._

Mulder wondered why a quote from Hobbes would spring into his head then he smiled, understanding what his subconscious was trying to tell him. Yes. Knowledge *was* power and he had been given both when he recognized the fleeting emotion that crossed the unguarded face. All he had to do now was decide what he wanted to do with what he had learned. The smile deepened. He *knew* what he wanted... what he had always wanted. All he had to do now was reach out and take it.

"So... you don't put out on the first date. What about the second?"

Krycek snorted into his drink, choking on the fiery liquid and coughing as the vodka went down the wrong way. Mulder was on his feet and by Alex's side within seconds, slapping the man on the back. He waited until Alex had regained control of his breathing, mesmerized by the dew shaped tears that rolled down the soft cheeks. With sturdy fingers he took away the glass then reached out to capture one fat droplet, taking it to his mouth and tasting it with the tip of his tongue. He moved forward and gently licked at another droplet, savoring the slight saltiness that tingled against his taste buds. A bolder lick followed one trail of tears along the side of the pert nose. He pulled back to gaze into eyes widened in shock, watching the play of emotion across the expressive face range from disbelief, to realization... to joy intermingled with lust. A hand reached out to caress his cheek, fingers trailing across his cheekbone and then down to scrape along his bottom lip. He hissed as the finger caught on the split.

Krycek stared at the deep red droplet that welled in the cut, spilling over the edge and trickling down Mulder's chin. He leaned forward and licked at it, the ferric tang against his tongue sending a pulse of energy dancing through his body. He shifted against the sudden constriction of his jeans, desperately wanting to free his engorged flesh from its denim prison but still unsure of Mulder's intentions. The hand that reached down to stroke the bulge in his jeans left no further doubt and Krycek pushed himself into that hand, wantonly demanding a firmer touch. Their mouths met hungrily, lips crushing together, tongues dueling for supremacy as saliva and blood intermingled. Krycek's fist closed around the short hair at Mulder's nape and he pulled them apart. They stared at each other, eyes feral with lust, breath harsh and uneven.

"Not here."

Confusion filled the blue/gold eyes momentarily as he wondered whether Krycek meant 'not on the couch' or 'not in this apartment'. If it were the former then he had no objection to leading Alex to his bed. If it were the latter then Alex was going to be sorely disappointed for he had no intention of taking a long drive just to appease Krycek's paranoia.

"Bed?"

A small nod and a slight smile answered his question. Mulder pushed himself onto his feet and reached down to pull Krycek up. Without releasing his grip on the hand, he led Alex along the short corridor and into the bedroom. He turned, flicked on the dimmer switch to the lowest setting and kicked the door shut behind them. With shaking fingers he began to unbutton the dress shirt, all the while watching the reaction of his still fully-clad ex-partner. Mulder pulled the shirt from his pants and let it hang loose. As he reached forward to push the heavy leather jacket from Krycek's broad shoulders he felt the light touch of fingers stroking one exposed nipple. He sighed, eyes closing as the sensation sent a ripple of energy straight down into his groin. The fingers moved away as gravity took the jacket to the floor and Mulder took advantage of the opportunity to pull the dark T-shirt from the jeans, pushing up the material as his hands slid across warm, soft flesh. He leaned forward and latched onto one small brown nub, gently nipping the soft flesh until it hardened to a peak while his fingers pinched and rubbed the other. Krycek's hand cupped the back of his head, holding him against the almost hairless chest. The soft groan of pleasure brought Mulder's eyes up to long column of exposed throat. He released the nipple and nibbled a path upwards until he could suck on the pale flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Krycek groaned anew, the vibration reverberating through Mulder. He pulled back to survey the angry red mark.

 _Mine!_

With quick movements he removed his shirt, letting it pool to the floor in an untidy heap before pulling the T-shirt off Krycek. Shoes were kicked off, pants unzipped and discarded until they were both standing naked beside the large bed.

Craze-filled lust dissipated at the self-conscious expression on his soon-to-be-lover's face. Mulder reached out and stroked across the join of flesh and plastic, fascinated by the different textures beneath his sensitive finger tips. He looked up into troubled eyes.

"It's okay, Alex." He smiled as the wariness was replaced with relief. "Do you want to keep it on?"

A small shake and an almost audible swallow were his reply.

"No. It's not... I still can't accept it as part of me."

Mulder nodded his head and reached out with nimble fingers to release the straps holding the prosthesis. Gently, he removed the false arm and placed it on the top of the bureau.

"Now. Where were we? Oh yes."

Mulder pulled the younger man back into his arms, his mouth latching onto the soft, vulnerable flesh leaving another mark of possession on the exposed throat while his hands traced a path down Krycek's back until they could cup the firmly muscled ass cheeks. He rotated his hips, rubbing his engorged cock against his lover's, luxuriating in the friction as precome smeared and mixed. With deft movements he maneuvered Alex to the bed and then pushed him down, toppling with him until he had the younger man trapped beneath his weight.  
Mulder's lips traveled across the beautiful face, lightly kissing the eyelids, his tongue sweeping along the thick fringe of dark lashes, following the curve of an eyebrow, across the temple to one slightly elfin ear. He moaned in unison with his lover as fingers traveled along the crevice between his ass cheeks, stroking the perineum before circling the small pucker of muscle. The fingers disappeared for a moment only to reappear above him. Mulder watched as two were sucked into Krycek's pretty mouth and laved before resuming their journey between his ass cheeks. His hips thrust against Krycek's as one finger penetrated his flesh, stroking deeper with each movement. As the sensations built, climbing ever higher with each slide of hot flesh on flesh, Mulder nuzzled into the short sable hair, rubbing his cheek against the soft strands until Alex moved his head. Their mouths met, open and wet as first Mulder and then Alex reached that exquisite peak, gasping out their mutual pleasure only to have their cries of ecstasy consumed by the other.

****

 _It's the rhythm of you with your hips on my hips  
It's the things that you do with your mouth and your lips  
The caress of your hair, and your sensual kiss  
It's the way that we share in the moment that goes on forever.  
This Is Love - Chris de Burgh_

Mulder floated back down to Earth to the feel of soft, tender kisses pressed against any part of his body that Alex could reach. He rolled to one side and gathered his lover into his arms, eyes closing in contentment as the night's events finally took their toll.

When he awoke several hours later, the heavy warmth was still settled against him... the arm thrown across his torso, one leg slipped between his, the dark head cradled upon his shoulder. He gazed down at a face so open and vulnerable in sleep; so innocent and angelic and he smiled. He had no illusions. Krycek was no innocent... but then, neither were Angels. Gently, he caressed the warm skin, relishing the feel of it beneath his finger tips.

Dark lashes fluttered and Mulder felt a soft breath exhaled as Alex began to stir. He watched as the curtain rose to reveal those beautiful sea-green eyes, still softened by sleep. Awareness came, a slight tension in the muscles quickly released when Alex felt no sense of danger from the man holding him. He stretched lazily, eyes glowing as a sensuous smile lifted the corners of his perfect mouth. One finger moved to caress Mulder's bottom lip but this time it was too gentle to reopen the split.

"So now we've established you put out on the second date." A smile of pure devilry lit up Mulder's face. "What can I expect on the third?"

THE END

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
LAST UPDATED: 2nd December 1999


End file.
